An Interview with Caroline Macon Fleischer on “The Roommate” – Chicago Review of Books

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On weekends, Caroline Macon Fleischer totes her typewriter to street festivals to write poems on demand. She volunteers for the Chicago collective Poems While You Wait, which delivers poetry in unexpected places. Poetry is often condemned for being unlikeable, but the evidence to the contrary is in her sign-up list. Given topics that range from auras to ex-boyfriends, Fleischer churns out original and hauntingly beautiful creations in fifteen minutes or less. Each poem is a work of art. In a world of excess and viral social media clicks, it is the only one of itself that exists. It is only intended for an audience of one.

By contrast, her debut novel, The Roommate, available from Joffee Books, is intended to be read by many. In it, Fleischer doesn’t shy away from writing about female pleasure, as well as the darker side of desire. This psychological thriller titillates, but it also directly addresses the materiality and sexism inherent in the banal. Her main character, Donna, encompasses the edgy side of Fleischer, the part that refuses to acquiesce. Donna may not like herself, but she certainly doesn’t care whether others like her. It’s jarring at first because it’s something we rarely read on the page—here is a woman who is not focused on her perception. The takeaway is that in centering a book around a character who is the last to see her own worth, she has written a whole book about the worth of women, even when they don’t fit the bill.

Rachel Robbins

How did you first conceive of this book?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

In grad school, I took a “Novel in 10 Weeks” class with the author Rebecca Johns—1,000 words a day, six days a week, for ten weeks. This published version of The Roommate has evolved a hundred times, but the elements and characters that excited me all along are still there. Like lots of people, I’ve been scarred with domestic fears by movies such as Poltergeist when she finds the kitchen cabinets all open. On top of that, I wanted to explore codependent friendships.

Rachel Robbins

Do you read a lot of thrillers? Do you like scary movies?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

I do. I like the twisty genre-playing thrillers that incorporate heightened elements or characters or some kind of off-the-wall freaky vibe. I’m inspired by Emma Rous—I love her eerie, stuffy-feeling writing and the claustrophobia she evokes in her books is exactly what I wanted for The Roommate. More creepy contemporary books I love are The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris and Severance by Ling Ma. Both influenced me with their heightened, tilty-realities. And yes—scary movies and shows are my favorite! I especially like psychological horrors. Some recent favs include Chloe Okuno’s Watcher (it’s so good!) and Jordan Peele’s Nope. I also like watching horror movies in other languages—it’s very fascinating to me to see what’s scary in different cultures. Plus the visual-auditory experience of reading subtitles is so fun.

Rachel Robbins

Plant metaphors have been used for beautiful women throughout the history of the literary canon from Campion to Shakespeare. Why did you choose to flip the script with Joshua Flowers? Why give the male character, and an abusive, violent one at that, a floral name?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

I was excited by the idea that some monster would be a cute balding man with an adorable name. Like, the ultimate betrayal, to meet someone like that and then he just turns. I wanted to give him a name I’d personally be charmed by. When I read his name, I picture those farmers’ market bunch bouquets in fall—precious. But yeah, what you’re saying is true—female characters named after plants tend to either be super-hot or have a femme-fatale quality, or both! Like Ramona Flowers in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.

Rachel Robbins

Speaking of plants, what is the role of gardening, new life, parched soil, and garden boxes in the book? How does gardening factor into your own life?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

As you know, I’m really into gardening. In this book, I think, Donna’s garden functions to wrestle with my feelings toward LA. When I was first getting into gardening, I was like, “I should move to LA so I can garden year-round.” After some thought, that unsettled me—you know in La La Land, after that sunny hot intro, it gives the setting as WINTER. When I saw it in theatres, the rest of the audience laughed at that, but it creeped me out. It’s what I jokingly call California Existentialism. I get seasonal depression, but I’ve learned that winter has its purpose—for plants, especially. Many perennials need that winter frost in order to do well during the warmer months. Sun and florals year-round in LA, while the rest of the country winters it up, scares me. I am suspicious that the persistently “good” weather in SoCal is to blame for mental health crises there. It’s kind of a forced insistence on happiness and tranquility when fires are literally burning them alive.

Rachel Robbins

I love that term, California Existentialism! As an uprooted Californian myself who can’t ever afford to move back, I also resonated fully with the references to the housing crisis in Topanga. What do you hope the reader will take away from the story as it pertains to the cost of living and homelessness?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

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Good question. I believe everybody should have nice, comfortable, affordable housing and enjoy their piece of this Earth. That said, in cases of serial squatters—as opposed to well-meaning “squatters” that earn ownership of a space they rightly deserve—it’s not so much about housing as it is displacing others, having fun maneuvering through the legal cracks, for selfish pleasure, at the expense of everyone else. In the book, it’s not a battle of housed and houseless but of someone who gets off on manipulation and control.

Rachel Robbins

In addition to squatters and toxicity, you tap into the theme of alcoholism as a response to trauma. It seems like there’s more to unpack there. What did you intend for us to take away?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

Donna is an alcoholic and her mom, Addie, probably is, too. Alcohol is a quiet beast since it’s so normalized. It’s a socially acceptable substance that can ravage life, relationships, and self-worth in every way. And even when it doesn’t, it’s a way to tune out of reality or tap into an alter ego, which can be dangerous and exciting at once.

Rachel Robbins

I think it’s important for us to address one of the criticisms of the book, which is the perceived unlikability of your main character, Donna. I’m thinking about Erika Sánchez here, and the lacuna in literature of unlikable WOC, and unlikability as a tool that represses women and prevents progress. In speaking about her first book, I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter, Sánchez railed against this resistance to complex female characters and pointed out that men are rarely criticized for being unlikable. So, my question for you is this: Do we tread in dangerous territory when we idealize our female characters? Is there a problem with requiring all fictional women to be likable? Why did you write Donna the way she is?

Caroline Macon Fleischer

I agree with Sánchez’s sentiment and the hatred toward Donna in reviews is scathing. Like, Donna is the worst—she’s naive and lacks self-awareness. Also—she’s crusty! Her socks don’t match, her lips are chapped, her hair is brassy. She isn’t cute and the book doesn’t skirt around that. I’ve wondered if Donna’s lack of hotness is a part of what makes people so mad. Just now looking at Amazon, I see “unacceptable to have a woman be so stupid,” “Donna is weak,” “Donna is as dumb as a doornail.” To me, the Donna-isms are hilarious in the way that most horror and suspense characters are. When you’re shouting at the screen, “Don’t go upstairs!” But with Donna, the dislike feels much darker than that. It’s bizarre to be so mad at a passive female protagonist when the villain in the book is a violent serial squatter. It reminds me of Gwyneth Paltrow’s response [disbelief] when Star named her the most hated celebrity in the world. Meanwhile, Chris Brown was ranked number 20 even though his list of assault accusations kept growing. Donna has problems, Gwyneth obviously has problems, but I personally have fun disliking characters and I had fun writing every moment of Donna.

FICTION
The Roommate
By Caroline Macon Fleischer
Joffe Books
Published July 26, 2022

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